


The London Chronicle

by anicula



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10083713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anicula/pseuds/anicula
Summary: reconciliation and reconnection in fits, starts, and parts





	

**prima**

 

The rain pelted down hard, and Noora should know better by now than to risk going out without an umbrella. But hope sprung eternal and there she was, soaked to the bone while searching for an open shop. It took three tries to wedge herself into a cafe that wasn’t filled to the brim with bedraggled students and disgruntled workers from the afternoon rush.

She shook her bag and brushed it down once she got into the shop, desperately trying to save the papers within from the dampness seeping through.

_stupid sudden downpour. i wont b back till after 8 or whenever this rain lets up_

Eva’s multiple sad emojis made Noora laugh when she checked her phone.

_i didn’t bring umbrella either. might stay in this cafe forever._

Noora shoved her phone back into her pocket and stepped up to order.

“Hi. What may I ge-” the server stopped suddenly. So suddenly that Noora didn’t even process the accent, didn’t even process the menu up on the wall she was trying to read before she was caught in brown eyes. Brown eyes that were intent on her face. Brown eyes that didn’t break contact until the lady behind Noora, ahem’ed loudly. 

He repeated his question, this time, directing it to some spot over her shoulder, looking in her direction but not at her. “What may I get you today?”

Noora opened her mouth and found herself at a loss for words, the sight of William in a nondescript cafe asking for her order not quite caught up with her brain yet. The lady behind cleared her throat again. Noora unknowingly mimicked her as she tried to find the words to string together an order for a mocha. “I - um, I’d like a mocha?” She didn’t mean to sound so uncertain or so hoarse but _William_. She tried again. “A mocha please.”

“That’ll be three pound fifty,” William said, punching in her order without looking at her.

Noora passed the money over in a daze, not sure if she had given him the right amount and by the slight tremor in William’s hand as he took the money, she wasn’t sure if he knew either.

“Your order will be to the left.” His voice was a practiced monotone till the very end when it was betrayed by a waver.

Noora took herself from the line before the lady behind her tried to physically move her out of the way, and walked towards the other end of the counter.

_EVA_

_???_

_WILLIAM IS MAKING ME COFFEE_

_what_

_HE’S WORKING IN THIS CAFE_

_what the fuck_

And that was just about how Noora felt. She messed around on her phone some more to keep herself from staring blatantly at William as he moved around the small space to make her drink. His motions were methodical and efficient and, in what felt like too short an amount of time, had her drink on the ledge.

“Noora,” William said, his voice rough, and pushed the drink closer to her before turning around and leaving Noora still, somehow, reeling from an exchange so short she could scream. 

She grabbed the drink and sat herself down at a table tucked away in the corner next to the window, where she could simultaneously keep a check on the weather outside and surreptitiously sneak glances at William working behind the counter. She took her phone out again to see a barrage of more texts from Eva.

 _where r u_  
_do you want me to come?_  
 _noora?_  
 _are you okay?_  
 _ARE YOU TALKING TO HIM_  
 _I hope you dump your coffee on him_  
 _he deserves it_  
 _asshole_  
 _does he look single_  
 _I hope he does_  
 _and miserable_

Noora smiled and tucked her phone away after sending a quick text to let Eva know that she was still in the cafe and no she was not talking to William, but was in fact, sitting in a corner and staring at him like some crazy ex-girlfriend. Which, when she thought about it, she was. Then she sat back in her seat and lifted the drink up so she could blow on the top of it to cool it down, unwilling to pursue that line of thought. William was busy up front, the tide of customers that had come in after Noora keeping him moving back and forth between the machines and the cash. 

After her heart had settled back down into its normal pace, she studied William’s form. He was wearing a grey henley with the sleeves rolled up, arms and shoulders broader than the last time she saw him. So similar yet so different to the William she knew. His gait had changed and he stood taller but more relaxed and there were other tiny changes she noted, like the dark smudges under his eyes that stood out stark against the pale of his skin and how his hair was shorter. But his eyes were the same, his gaze and the way he looked at people and how he smiled at strangers he didn’t want to smile at. 

Noora spent an hour in the cafe, dragging out her stay even though the rain had tapered off ten minutes in. She spent her time between playing with her phone, staring at William, and gazing listlessly at the text she had pulled out of her bag in an attempt to look like she was busy. But the tide of people coming in never went away and whatever talk with William she had hoped for and dreaded never came to be. In the end, she called Eva to let her know she was going home and packed her bag to leave. 

 

 

 

 

**secunda**

 

The second time Noora approached the cafe, she did it with the certainty that only a sleepless night of conferencing with her friends could give her. She kept Sana’s _do it_ text in the back of her mind as she opened the door, ready to face William. But to her disappointment, it wasn’t a familiar mop of hair that manned the cash. It was another, smaller girl and Noora felt her heart drop, and with it, her resolve to talk to William ever again. 

She turned and nearly barreled into another person coming in. She stumbled back, an apology on the tip of her tongue when she looked up and all the words died. 

William. 

He stared back at her, mouth also in the midst of speaking but gaping now. William swallowed, the bob of his throat catching Noora’s eye. 

“Noora.”

“Wil-” and Noora paused, stopped herself from following up with something completely inappropriate, “William.” 

“Hi.” William looked at her with his head bent forward, the lines around his mouth tight and his eyes dark, so dark and imploring and Noora was this close to caving in if he even so much as made an attempt to ask. 

Noora didn’t have a chance to reply before a large, burly man with a suitcase shoved them aside. The man turned his head around to glare at them pointedly as he moved past. She looked back at William to see his attention get snagged by the girl behind the counter and he nodded at her. 

“I have a shift now,” William said, “Julie’s got class, so I can’t talk but-” William swallowed again, his mouth twisting this way and that, settling on “if you’re gonna study here for a while, I can come over during my break.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” William nodded with finality, looked into her eyes for half a second too long, and moved past her to the back room. 

Noora found a spot, the same spot as last time, next to the window where she could people watch and more importantly, William watch. She checked her phone, silent after a long night of buzzes. She pulled out her textbook from the other day so she’d have something to do, that something being of course, pretending to read while tracking William with her eyes. Well she tried to genuinely read at the start but she was so nervous that the words on the page might as well have been in greek for all the good they did her. 

By the time William came over, Noora had fretted for so long she reached some sort of meditative state where nothing felt real, like she’d had a good cry and was now empty and shivery. 

“How are you?” Noora asked after William had put down his drink. She didn’t know what she wanted to say or how to say it and Sana’s suggestion of cussing him out wasn’t something she could do in the middle of the afternoon at a cafe. So she sat. And waited for William to say something. 

“Good,” William said. “How are you?”

“Good,” Noora answered. She leaned back in her seat and pulled her cup closer to her. She nearly started tapping the table with her fingers, she wanted to break the silence so bad. But what could she say that they hadn’t already not said to each other all those years ago?

“You’re in London again?” William asked.

“Yeah,” Noora said.   

The quiet rose again. 

“Are you going to school here?” William asked, his movements slightly jerky as he took a sip from his coffee. 

“Yes, my first year. University of London.” Noora attempted a smile. “With Eva.” 

William smiled back, just as oddly mechanical as before. “That’s good. It’s good to have friends here.” 

“It’s nice. Having someone to do things with around London.” Noora glanced at William’s hands, twisted together so tight his fingers were red at the tips. “Are you still working for your father?” 

“No,” William said. 

Noora stared at him in surprise. “Oh?” 

William smiled down at his drink ruefully. “I’m back in school. Work was good experience but it wasn’t what I hoped for.” 

“And your father’s alright with that?” Noora asked, keeping her tone neutral and her eyes trained on William’s face. 

“A law degree wouldn’t exactly hinder my future in business if I decided to go back.” William shrugged.

“You’re in law now?” 

He nodded. “Finishing my undergrad at King’s College. But I’ll be doing grad there too.”

“You’re at King’s?” Noora raised her brows, surprised she hadn’t seen him around before now. They were so close, in the same university, their colleges not that far a walk from each other. “I’m at City.” 

“Cool,” William said, his eyes wandering over her book. “What are you studying?” 

“Journalism.” Noora spread her hands to show him the cover of her text. 

“That’s great, it’s what you wanted right?” William hesitated. “When you were looking at schools here?”

“Mhmm,” Noora bit her lip. Her schooling was going exactly as she had planned before her first move to London. The courses were what she wanted and so was the school. She had the apartment she dreamed of back when she was still in Norway and a London flat of her own was an idea she tossed around. Everything about her life currently was exactly the way she wanted it and the way she pictured it would be when she was younger. Except for the one glaringly obvious absence. 

“How’s the program going for you?” William asked. 

“It’s great,” Noora answered. “The professors are super nice and knowledgeable about the industry, and I’m enjoying the classes a lot. We get a lot of work related experiences since the professors are so connected.” She stalled after that, not sure how to proceed. She could ask William about his own courses or even the weather if she started reaching. But none of those things were things she wanted to talk about. They weren’t why she had been up all night or why her phone was currently half a minute away from being dead. 

“It’s good to see you again,” William said when Noora didn’t offer anything else. 

Noora glanced at him to see him studying her face keenly. “It’s good to see you too.”  

William listed to the side when he met her eyes. “I’ve missed you,” he said gingerly with his drink held close in front of him. 

Noora gave him a weak smile. “It’s been a while,” she looked down. “Missed you too.” 

“Really?” William asked, his expression doubtful. It wasn’t exaggerated, only a small downturn of the corners of his lips, a slight furrow in his brow. But it wasn’t hard for her to decipher. The long, almost forgotten afternoons of tracing his face had made it all too easy. 

“Yeah.” 

And then William was leaning forward, setting his coffee aside and placing his forearms on the table. “My break’s almost over,” he said haltingly, looking straight at Noora, “If you want - I could give you my number and -” he drew back minutely when he saw her push her text away to make space, “and we could talk or-” he broke off again, fiddling with his rolled up sleeves before finishing his thought, “or not talk. We could just hang?” 

He held his hand up when Noora opened her mouth to respond. “I know it sounds stupid. With us. But I-” he grimaced, “I really do miss you. A lot,” he finished lamely, his cards all out on the table for Noora to call him out as she saw fit. 

Noora took in his discomforted posture, the way he looked so downcast even without her saying anything. And she saw herself reflected back in him. The way she looked in the mirror sometimes when she couldn’t drudge up the effort to be presentable. To be strong or independent or whatever else Vilde accused her of. He looked small despite his large frame and Noora never in her life wanted something this- 

“Here,” Noora said as she held her phone out.

 

 

 

 

**tertia**

 

The third time she ran into him, it wasn’t by accident at all. It was so planned that she got a text the night before and on the day of. They had arranged to go to the British Museum, and it had only been half her idea. William had suggested going somewhere she hadn’t been before, and somehow the British Museum was one of the few on her rapidly dwindling list. 

Eva had looked at her dubiously when Noora told her the plans. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Noora moved her mouth into a shape vaguely resembling a smile. “Probably not?”

“But you’re going to do it anyways?” Eva leaned against the door frame of Noora’s room. 

“Yes?” Noora tugged on her sweater. She was still deciding on what to wear, eyeing herself critically in the mirror before pulling on another sweater. 

Eva puffed up her cheeks and blew out a breath of air. “Alrighty. But be careful out there. I heard the weather’s going to be pretty bad,” she said, her knapsack in hand. “I’ll see you when I get back tonight.”  

“See you later.” Noora watched Eva leave, not entirely sure if the warning was solely for the weather. She turned back to her outfit. She still didn’t like what she wore, but she had a feeling if she kept on changing she’d be late. 

 

 

She got to the museum on time, though when she arrived, William was already there. His head was bent over his phone, body folded awkwardly on the steps of the museum. He looked up when she neared.

“Hey,” William said. He pocketed his phone and stood up. He had the museum pamphlet in hand with crease marks already warping the front. 

“Hi,” Noora stopped on the step below the one he was on. 

“Are you ready?” he asked and gestured towards the building. 

Noora looked at him through narrowed eyes. He didn’t seem to catch on to what he said till seconds later when realization dawned on his face in the form of a sheepish wince directed at the ground.  

Noora let out a soft laugh at his rueful expression. “Yeah,” she said with a faint smile, “I think so.” She motioned for him to lead the way and followed. 

 

 

They spent the better part of the day wandering around in silence. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. More contemplative, words only exchanged after much thought so they minimized the amount of accusation and hurt. There were questions about William’s father in low, hushed voices, respecting the quiet of the museum. It made arguing harder and understanding much easier. Nevertheless, at times, it was simply too stifling and Noora found herself storming off into the other wings to escape William’s blunt logic. William followed. Not right away, but half an hour or an hour later she’d find him staring at a display as she rounded a corner, contrition writ in the twist of his lips and the dip of his head.

The subdued conversation would continue then, because they had both come to the unspoken agreement that not talking was worst than talking. Not talking had lead to Noora leaving for Norway the last time. Lending a voice to all their concerns was difficult though, made more so by William’s reticent nature. 

By the end of the day when the museum guards had told them on three separate occasions that they had to make their way back to the entrance, they had gone over one argument at least twice and numerous others more. 

Noora wasn’t sure where they stood with each other as they separated at the entrance to the underground. She remembered all too clearly the slights she felt when she was with William and his attention was a constant struggle she could never win. He was better now, that she had to admit. His father’s influence was evidently no longer the single guiding force behind all of William’s decisions. In their years apart, he had become more sure of himself, more a person of his own making than his father’s. His ideas were his own again. Noora gazed at her reflection in the dark windows of the train, thoughts frazzled as when she looked on her way there. 

She startled when her phone buzzed as soon as she left the underground.

_have you been to the transport museum yet?_

 

 

 

**quinta**

 

When he reached out for her, he was tentative. Gentle, slow strokes that Noora could back out of at any time. His first kiss was a chaste press of the lips and it made Noora smile. William’s unexpected timidness was sweet. But she wanted more. She pushed him back and kissed him harder, his shirt stretched down under her ministrations and he tightened his hold on her in response. 

“Noora?” William said. He nudged her back and held her there when she tugged on the bottom of his shirt insistently. “Noora.” 

“Yes?” She looked at him impatiently, not relinquishing her fistful, but rather, testing the fabric’s resilience. 

“Shouldn’t we-” William looked meaningfully between them. 

Noora drew him back to her with persistent tugs. “No,” she breathed against his mouth. She’d managed to get them halfway horizontal when she heard the front door slam open. 

“Noora?” 

Noora banged her head softly against William’s shoulder. 

“Noora?” Eva’s voice was louder. 

“Shouldn’t you answer that?” William was breathing heavy enough that Noora moved with the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Noora?” Eva was right outside her door. 

“Yeah?” Noora answered. 

And before Noora could think, her door opened. 

“Noora I got us som-” 

Eva’s bag slid off her arm and smacked against the wall on its way down to the floor.

“Noora.” Eva was barely audible. 

Noora could only respond with a strained smile. She saw William offer Eva a wave with the hand not currently under Noora. 

Eva blinked. “Um-I’ll, I’ll go,” she gestured behind her, down the hall where her room was. “I can um - come back later.” She shot Noora a look not unlike alarm and backed out as quickly as she came, closing the door behind her. 

Noora felt all the tension drain out of William the second it closed and he fell back on to the pillows. He raked his fingers through his hair. 

“I should go,” he said when they could no longer hear Eva. 

“Should you?” Noora propped herself up on William’s shoulder. 

He let out a breath. “Don’t want to impose. Eva looked like she had plans with you.” He looked over at her questioningly. 

“She did,” Noora agreed quietly. She heaved herself up from the bed. William was right, there was dinner somewhere from the smell left behind by Eva but she wasn’t too keen on showing William out the second she had finally gotten him where she wanted. 

Noora watched from her perch on the dresser as William packed his backpack up, picking up books from the floor where they had been abandoned the moment they were set down. She followed him to the front door, leaning in for a kiss when he turned back to face her. William obliged and then some, almost fearsome in his pursuit. 

“I’ll call you later?” he asked when they broke apart. 

“Okay,” Noora loosened her hold on him. William stayed close for a few moments more, leaning near enough for their foreheads to touch, though no more. Feet thumping from the other side of the door made him veer away. But he leaned back in and pressed a kiss to her forehead as if he couldn’t help himself before finally turning and making his way to his car.

 

 

“William?” Eva whispered to her wildly the minute Noora closed the door. 

“Yeah?” Noora pulled a face at Eva’s frown. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Not that bad? Noora,” Eva walked to the kitchen and pulled herself up on the counter, “Do you not remember?” 

“How could I forget,” Noora said, coming to a stop in front of the fridge. She opened it to find warm takeout boxes on the shelf. “Is this dinner?” 

“Yeah,” Eva said with a sigh, “I picked it up on the way home.” She fussed with her braid, taking it apart and checking the ends. “I thought it’d be nice since we haven’t had dinner together in a while.” 

“Eva.” Noora leaned against the fridge. 

“What?” 

Noora stared back patiently at Eva.

“It’s weird,” Eva broke in less than a second,”I mean I’m trying to not overreact but you didn’t see you the last time. It sucked. I don’t want you to have to feel that way ever again but then you see William and it’s like-” she threw her hands up, “weird déjà vu.” She yanked on her loose braid. “It’s almost freaky how much you guys are like the way you were. Before.” 

“Well,” Noora said, rearranging the takeout boxes in front of her, “that’s not entirely true.” 

“Isn’t it?”

Noora shook her head. “We talk a lot more.” 

Eva raised an eyebrow. “That didn’t look like talking.” 

“That’s because you have the worst timing.” Noora started dumping the boxes of food onto plates. “What you saw was actually the first time,” Noora slowed and tipped her head back, “since the-” she finished off by waving the forks around. 

Eva let out a low whistle. “Fuck.” She hopped off the counter to help Noora bring their food to the couch. “Okay, so you guys talk? About what?” She looked expectantly at Noora. 

“Museums?” 

“You guys talk about museums?” 

“It’s complicated,” Noora shoved a piece of broccoli into her mouth. 

“No shit. I caught you with your- your whatever and apparently the only conversation you guys can come up with is museums?” 

“Not only museums.” Noora took a sip of her water. “We talk about things in the museums too,” she took another drink, “and sometimes we talk about other things. A lot of things actually,” she placed her cup down. “It’s weird, it’s like all we do is talk. He’ll text me the strangest things about trains and cars and snapple facts.” She paused to look up at Eva. “Sometimes talking to him these days is like… talking to a stranger but then sometimes his dumb righteousness comes out and it’s him and I start thinking that we’re here - here in the right place and maybe, the right time.” Noora looked down and sectioned the food on her plate into neat little squares. “And that maybe we’ll get it right this time.”

Eva nudged Noora with her foot. “Do you? For real?”

“I don’t know,” Noora smiled weakly, “but I know more about him now. Not just about his family. But you know, about him.” She stared at the piece of beef she had speared with her fork. “Did you know he fixes up old cameras for fun?” 

“What?” A piece of chicken fell out of Eva’s mouth despite her attempts to close it. 

“Yeah,” Noora laughed. “He goes to car boot sales and picks them up and looks up parts he needs to order in and stuff.” Noora gave Eva her water. “And the top shelf of his fridge is full of film, because apparently they keep better in the cold.” 

“What the fuck?” Eva was incredulous with a trail of water making its way down the side of her chin. 

“He’s more of an oddball than I thought he was,” Noora admitted, looking down at her food with a grin on her face. “Granted high school was more nonverbal than anything else but,” she picked at her food, “everything’s out now.” 

“And you still like him?”

“Too much,” Noora said, scrunching up her face. 

Eva looked at her, considering, and then she prodded Noora’s hip with her foot again. “You’re happy though.” Eva smiled at Noora, her eyes kind. “If your oddball is what it takes then maybe you should invite him round for dinner sometime.” 

“You’d be up for dinner with William?” 

“Yeah,” Eva nodded encouragingly, “keep your enemies close and all that,” she finished with a bright smile. 

Noora laughed, chortling in a way that made her food fall out of her mouth.  

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna shout at me, kiranstein@tumblr is your best bet


End file.
